


Casual Encounters

by hanwritessolo



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Gangbang, Group Sex, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 02:05:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13261320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanwritessolo/pseuds/hanwritessolo
Summary: After serving them their second dish of cold defeat, the King's royal retinue offers you a different kind of rematch.





	Casual Encounters

****“Mind if we join you?”

A perky voice startles you as you absentmindedly peel the label from your third bottle of beer. You have been all by your lonesome at Lestallum’s only existing bar—the prime beacon of rest and alcohol for Hunters and Glaives alike—sitting in your favorite booth for a much needed space and time to unwind. It must have been the steady thrum of the bass that came from the old pop song aching from the radio, or the indistinct chatter from the pack of Hunters that frequented the place, that you failed to notice the three familiar faces that sauntered and weaved through the throng of regulars, making a beeline toward your direction.

You look up, and a cheeky grin graces your face.

“Oh my, if it isn’t the royal pals,” you welcome them, and they all smile; with a wave of a hand, you motion for them to take the vacant side of the booth. The chirpy blonde boy and the formal blind guy with glasses both take their seats in the couch in front of you; the hulking heavily-tattooed man decides to grab a nearby chair and sits at the end of the table. You casually remark, “I can’t believe you lot are still in town.”

“Well, we’re actually looking for you,” the tattooed man confesses, a wide grin spreading across his scar-riddled face.

“Oh gods,” your face wearily creases and you let out a groan, “please don’t tell me you guys want another rematch because you lost today’s _rematch._ I don’t think I’ll be in a fighting mood anytime soon—”

“Our apologies—it’s not that,” the glasses guy quickly notes in their defense. He explains, “We happened to realize how rude we have been for not introducing ourselves all this time. Not to mention, we didn’t even catch your name yet.”

_Oh, right. Of course._

You had sparred with King Noctis’s royal retinue once with each of them a few weeks back, all on separate occasions. But this time around, when the three of them banded and returned to Lestallum earlier, they challenged you to a series of rematches—in which you viciously won all grueling feats, yet again adding to your roster of victories—that the idea of a proper introduction mindlessly escaped all of you.

They finally share their names, while you offer them yours. It’s a relief that you’re now able to associate a name to each of their faces and features: Gladio is the gargantuan guy with the striking bird tattoo, Prompto is the perky blonde photographer with freckles sprinkled on his face, and Ignis is the menacingly astute blind man with sharply-chiseled cheekbones.

“Oh and yeah, we also wanted to thank you for indulging us earlier for another round,” Prompto cheerily says.

“Not a problem. Also, that was _four_ rounds in total for me, Prompto,” you sharply point out with a wicked smirk. “I had to fight each of you _and then_ all three of you.”

“And still, you didn’t pull any punches,” Ignis promptly asserts. “You’re quite an exceptional fighter, if I must say.”

“I agree with Iggy,” Gladio affirms with a smile. “You never slowed down one bit.”

You roll your eyes in playful protest, “Except when Prompto conveniently slowed me down with a status ailment spell—yeah, sure.” (They all laugh, of course, because it was a fucking hilarious experience for you that you functioned less than your usual murderous dexterity. Let bygones be bygones, you suppose—after all, you _won.)_

The night rolls along with the four of you sharing stories of home and tales of misadventures over another batch of drinks and a plateful of cheese nachos. The conversation flawlessly shifts from one ridiculous subject to another in between fits of roaring laughter that you finally forget the day’s exhaustion, and altogether, whatever hierarchical barrier that separated you and the royal folk. They were, surprisingly enough, easy to get along with. There is Gladio, who didn’t balk at the chance to ask you for feedback on his fighting techniques. Meanwhile, Prompto teases you with a photo he took when he had you petrified on your first match with him. (Which was a nightmare, for obvious reasons—but then again, you won.) Ignis, on the other hand, recounts their rounds of battles with you earlier that day.

Just like the first time you met them outside the EXINERIS plant, each of them challenged you again with a one-on-one, which was hardly any trouble for a seasoned soldier of your caliber. It did, however, gave you a good chance to refresh your memory on each of their strengths and weaknesses, and you couldn’t help but admire how they have grown stronger, considering it hasn’t been that long since you saw them last. Ignis still surprised you, as usual—beyond his graceful formalities and courtesies, and in spite the condition of his eyesight, he possessed a ferocious precision that it would be a grave mistake to let your guard down, even for one split second.

But fighting against all three of them was an entirely different story. They attacked in ruthless synchronicity, each of their movements were attuned to one another, lethal and unforgiving. And you loved every moment of it. It was one hard-earned victory to be sure; all those rounds tested your limits, and it was a breath of fresh air from your mundane daemon hunts. It shocked you with an excitement that jolted every fiber of your muscle, and seeing them now, your mind can’t help but wonder how Gladio’s massive hands would feel roaming on your body, or how Prompto’s quirky little mouth would feel between your legs, and how Ignis’s slender fingers—

_Wait, what the fuck am I thinking?_

“And I gotta admit,” the rich baritone of Gladio’s voice finally drags you out of your filthy thoughts, “with that body of yours—you got some excellent stamina, alright.”

“Stamina from my what and where now?” You stammer like an idiot with that strangely suggestive comment. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but you’re absolutely sure you’re not yet _that_ drunk. But the fact remains that you’re still reeling from the erotic flights of fancies that ambushed you mere seconds ago. And right now, Gladio’s eyes—so amber and fiery and painfully distracting—is heavily fixed on you that a breath and some witty comeback get stuck in your throat.

“I meant in combat, baby girl,” Gladio easily repeats, his words low and husky, seducing you back to that dirty little thing you’ve been thinking. “Your _stamina_ in _combat.”_ That sly smirk on his ruggedly beautiful face makes you want to punch his mouth. With your mouth. Or just sit on his face, put that tongue of his to good use...

_Oh dear shit._

“Exactly!” Prompto gushes in sweet agreement. And then, he adds, his tone honeyed with a treacherous innocence, “And have I mentioned you got some pretty cool moves? The way your back bends… I’m not gonna lie—you’re _so_ flexible, too.” Your eyes meet his, and you watch Prompto pull his pretty mouth into a wily smile. You’ll be damned—this little shit just _knows_ how to charm your pants off.

Ignis chimes in from the depths of his silence, and ponders out loud almost nonchalantly, “Makes me wonder what other things you could do with your hands—“

“Okay, okay, _okay,”_ you slam a fist on the table, sternly cutting Ignis off of his obvious turn to drive you insane, “I appreciate the praise and flattery, but _seriously.”_

You narrow your eyes at Ignis first, and then at Prompto, and finally, at Gladio. Both Prompto and Gladio are feigning a look of innocence, which doesn’t suit them at this rate. You suddenly regret letting these dashing idiots survive in that rematch for the torment their putting you through right now—except, you really don’t have the heart to beat them up and ruin their perfectly beautiful faces down to a sorry pulp.

Finally, you steel yourself, daring to ask a question that you already have an inkling to its answer: “I’m getting a vibe here and I’m not dumb, so tell me—what exactly are you all trying to achieve here?”

Prompto and Gladio exchange a knowing glance. Ignis lets out a wry laugh, and says, “I told you, Gladio—she’s smart and I knew she’d catch on quick.”

“Thanks for referring to me in third person, Ignis, when I’m _just right here._ ” You whip your head to Gladio, glaring at him to finally answer. “Spit it out.”

Gladio laughs and proposes, “Relax. Seeing how you love a good challenge, we figured you might be interested in putting that stamina of yours to a test on a _different_ playing field.”

Prompto adds, “And we thought you might need to blow off some steam just like we do, so…”

You drum your fingers on the table, eyes sparkling in both interest and anticipation. “What exactly do you guys have in mind?”

“As a token of our gratitude for putting up with us, what say we play a little game,” Ignis suggests, sitting even straighter, “where the three of us will compete for your pleasure?”

The offer was too tempting to resist.

 

* * *

 

It is almost laughable how the four of you stood in a mechanical circle in the middle of your room, having an initial discussion about their little game like in some sort of military briefing.

“Pretty simple, actually. There’re two phases in this contest: the foreplay and the sex,” on your right, Gladio eagerly rubs both his hands as he elucidates the terms, already thrilled. “Basically, the three of us will take turns fucking your brains out. After each phase, you have to choose among the three of us who does _you_ best.”

“Right. Okay,” you nod, actively ignoring how Gladio just deadpanned that kind of information. Your heart is galloping in your chest—either from excitement or nervousness, you can’t be sure at this point. Regardless, you still manage to tease, “You want me to make a medal for you guys afterwards? Best in Oral? Best in Bed?”

“Gods, your smart mouth will be the death of me,” Gladio smirks, rubbing his hand on his bearded face. “Anyway, anything you’d like us to know? Like, anything you don’t like to do, any restrictions—”

“Oh. Nothing goes in my ass,” you smile menacingly. Prompto and Ignis laugh; Gladio only sighs, as if already defeated.

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“That’s actually my favorite part,” Gladio huffs, and you stifle a giggle. “But, okay. That’s duly noted with respect, baby girl.”

Prompto, who’s been rocking back and forth on his heels on your left side, turns to face you. “Wait, before we forget: condoms?”

“I’m on the pill, guys,” you quickly note.

“Nice, okay!” Prompto fires another question, “And what’s your safeword? Gladio has a bad habit of getting _really_ carried away, so.”

You think for a second, and then you dubiously offer: “Um, tonberry?”

“Copy that,” Ignis says with a smile, adjusting his glasses; Gladio and Prompto nods along in acknowledgement. Ignis then prompts, with a tap from his cane: “Gentlemen, what are we waiting for?”

You suppose the most laughable part of this arrangement is how all of you started stripping your clothes and kicking off all your shoes still in a mechanical circle, until all of you are standing face to face, reduced to nothing but skin, bare and exposed as the day you were born.

Gladio and Prompto can’t help but gawk at your body, and you can’t help but shrink under their intense gaze. You try not to be distracted with Gladio’s fucking _size._ Instead, your mind simply zeroes in on your own battle-earned scars and flaws and everything horrible in between. The last person who saw you like this was Nyx. Or was it Luche? (Or was it both of them?)

But Gladio’s fucking _size..._

The wordless seconds tick by, and you feel yourself shying away so you quip, “What? Is this the first time you’ve ever _seen_ a girl’s naked body?”

“In a very long time, yes.” Gladio quickly answers. Prompto visibly gulps, still left speechless.  

You bite your lip and quickly backpedal, realizing Ignis can’t...

“Shit—I meant no offense, Ignis,” you look up at him, gauging the reaction on his face.

“None taken,” Ignis warmly smiles. “Besides, my hands and mouth will be sufficient enough to explore your body.”

Your heart drops at an alarming speed. _Is he this fucking smooth all the time?_ You choke out, “Right. Okay. Um, great—”

Before you even know it, Prompto is on your mouth, silencing you with one violent kiss. You feel Gladio sliding up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist, his lips tracing the back of your neck. A moan of pleasure scratches the surface of your throat. Gladio guides you backwards, steering the both of you to your bed, momentarily detaching you from Prompto’s mouth.

As you settle on the bed with your back against Gladio’s chest, Prompto and Ignis follow suit. Ignis takes his position on your side; Prompto prowls forward, crawling from the foot of the bed, mincing his way to you. As Gladio’s hands cruise around the curve of your hips, Prompto splits your legs apart, leaving sweet trails of kisses in your calves, traveling all the way down to your thighs. He teases another kiss on your hips, and then another, until he finally, _finally_ settles in the warmth between your legs.

 _This_ is far better than how you imagined it.

Every wave of his tongue and every ripple of his mouth drives you to a helpless whimper. Prompto sucks you in and out, forward and backward, in riveting motions so fierce that your body responds in obedience, back arching like a mountain curving to its peak. Prompto briefly looks at your face, all flushed and tainted pink, and the sight of you crumbling at the orchestrations of his mouth and tongue, he wraps his arms around your thighs and presses you even closer to his face.

The pleasure is blinding that you stutter, “Fucking hell, _oh gods_ —”

“You’re making her happy, Prom,” Gladio croons in your ear, still busy gently nibbling the flesh at the crook of your neck, all the while kneading your breasts.

“Shit, shit, fucking _shit—”_

Prompto makes music out of you when he vigorously curls his mouth in that sweet soft spot, over and over, and you sing your moans of praise in harmonious repeat. You feel so close, _so goddamn close,_ and he takes the rhythm faster with his tongue, until he curtly stops.

You whine, “Prompto, I—”

“Your turn, Iggy,” Prompto cheekily grins as he rises up, and you watch him lick his lips, savoring your taste. You’re still a heaving and panting mess against Gladio’s chest that you almost forget Ignis’s existence after all _that._

And to think the game’s barely begun.

“My pleasure,” Ignis says, and Prompto, slowly but surely, guides him as they switch; Ignis carefully slithers forward, feeling your legs.

If Prompto played music out of you, Ignis is about to make you his masterpiece.

He pries your legs apart like an easel; your skin, like a canvas. Slowly, Ignis hauls your legs over his shoulders as he litters and decorates the flesh of your thighs with tender bites, painting you in cherry and lavender half-moons. He inches little by little, his hands coasting on your waist all so leisurely, until he wraps your dripping spot with his mouth.

When he said he only needed his hands and mouth, Ignis was most definitely _not_ kidding.

His tongue twists and dips inside you, the motions of his mouth mercilessly sucking your clit. Ignis drinks your taste in every lick and he matches the tandem of his mouth and tongue with his two fingers. Your hands find purchase in the tuft of his hair, as he continues to twist and dip and plow, his pace gradually intensifying like wildfire.

Your hands fork through his hair, and you bite your lip in a measly attempt to control your climax.

But it doesn’t work.

“Shit, Ignis, fuck, fuck, _fuck—”_

A slew of curses fly out of your mouth as you come on Ignis’s face. But gods, he is relentless that he didn’t even pull to a pause as he only continues to take you in, swallowing you, drinking you.

In an impulse, you begin to apologize, “I’m so _sorry—ahh!”_

Ignis only interrupts your unnecessary apology when he changes his pace. As you drown in another round of pleasure, out of the corner of your eye, you can feel Gladio and Prompto watching you as they take their own length into their hands. Ignis notices that your attention drifting somewhere else, and he yanks you closer by the waist. This time, he hungrily consumes you, his fingers pumping inside you with immaculate precision, all at a scalding pace. On and on he goes, and you’re already chanting his name like a spell, your back bending in fits of pure gratification. Meanwhile, Gladio pulls your hair and slightly cranes your head towards him for a scorching kiss. As Gladio’s lips relishes on yours, Ignis goes faster and faster down under, licking and curling, until he grinds into a screeching halt.

“Gladio?” Ignis calls out, and Gladio breaks away from your mouth.

“About damn time,” Gladio buzzes in with excitement. He slides away from behind you, and you flop back onto the sheets and pillows, taking this fleeting moment to catch a break.

“Okay, you guys are amazing but can you just give me at least five _fucking_ seconds,” your words falter in between heaving breaths. You hear Prompto laugh as he lounges on the side of the bed.

“No rest for the wicked, baby girl,” you prop both your elbows to slightly adjust yourself up, and you see Gladio throwing a devilish smirk in front of you. And in Gladio’s stead, Ignis slowly squirms his way up and sidles behind you, and you pull yourself up between his knees as you rest your back against his chest.

“Do be gentle, Gladio,” Ignis cheekily advises, which Gladio only dismisses with a shrug.

You only just recovered a decent amount of air when Gladio goes down on you and spreads your legs, lifting your thighs, and immediately devours you with such feral hunger, like a scholar desperate for knowledge.

This time around, you become Gladio’s favored literature.

As if reading his favorite book, Gladio sinks his mouth between your legs, searching for his favorite page. He finds it in that swelling soft spot, and he reads it ardently and like _crazy,_ each coil and flick of his tongue propels you to stark-raving pleasure. His hands travel to your thighs, up your waist, and he reaches to massage the ripeness of your breasts. He does it so well, so incredibly _well,_ the touching, the sucking, that his name spills out of your mouth like a memorized poem.

“Gladio, please—”

Gladio’s name dies at the tip of your tongue as Ignis captures your kiss-swollen mouth with his own. Even so, Gladio continues to devour you, his hands returning to your thighs and squeezing you close, keeping you from bending and squirming away because _gods,_ Gladio’s tongue is thunder and his mouth is fucking electric. But as if on cue, as if knowing you’re about to come for the second time, he abruptly stops.

Ignis pulls away from your mouth, and you slump against his chest. Your lungs are ripe to burst, and you can hear your heart trying to puncture out of your ribcage.

Gladio kneels in front of you, while Prompto and Ignis wait expectantly. He asks, “So, your verdict?”

“I don’t think I can pass my judgment at this point,” you exhale, and impatiently, you roll your eyes at him and command, “For fuck’s sake, someone just put it in!”

They all explode into laughter, and you can’t help but join in and laugh at your own bloody eagerness. Prompto cheerily signals, “You heard the lady!”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Gladio didn’t need to be told twice when he flips you around so fast that you let out a squeak. You’re now on all fours, and in one fluid motion, he grabs you by the ass as he slides himself inside you. You can feel his girth stretching you wider, and it feels so awfully good that you are in the verge of tears.

“Holy _fucking_ shit,” Gladio growls in pleasure, “your pussy _is_ amazing, you naughty vixen—”

Gladio begins at a steady rhythm, thrusting and rocking you at a ridiculously delicious tempo. You grasp onto the sheets, as if to hold onto the remaining ounce of your sanity. Every roll of his hips receives a decadent cry of his name, a succulent trade of growls and moans.

But just as Gladio roughly shifts to fuck you senseless, Ignis positions himself in front of your face, shoving his length into your pretty little mouth. Meanwhile, Prompto takes one of your hands and wraps it around his cock.

“Look at our favorite Glaive—” you hear Gladio’s gravelly voice as he pounds harder and faster— “she sure does like her pussy being fucked so hard—”

With the ringing sound of skin slapping against skin, and the echoes of moans and grunts, and the way all your bodies pressed against one another in a gossamer of sweat, building a cathedral of desire in the absence of romance and in the abundance of lust, there is absolutely nothing holy in this mad affair.

All of your monstrous hunger lies between something animal and human, and you’ll be lying if you deny how much you’re enjoying _this—_ them pummeling and ramming themselves into you, spreading you apart, bursting at the seams, fucking you out of your mind, taking you over and over and _over..._

Gladio pulls out as you both violently arrive at your orgasm; so does Ignis, who comes inside your mouth. You swallow and lick your lips, and your hand unwraps from Prompto. You gracelessly sink onto the sheets, taking another moment to restore your breath.

Ignis is the first one to check on you, “Did we hurt you?”

“Oh gods, no—” you slur, letting out a small laugh, “just taking a short breather.”

Not long after, Prompto gingerly turns you over; Ignis slowly returns behind you, resting against the headboard, propping you up and cradling you back against his chest. You see Gladio casually sprawling himself at the edge of the bed.

“Hi there,” Prompto whispers, propping himself between your thighs as he takes his turn to be inside you.

Astrals be good. You finally rue the day you ever underestimated Prompto.

As opposed to Gladio’s ferocity, Prompto handles you like fragile glass. But the way he eases in and out, taking you by the waist, thrusting his hips at a languid motion, is some form of wizardry that he hits you in _all the right places_. Blessed be the fucking stars. While doing Prompto does you so magically, Ignis dots the back of your shoulders with small kisses as he occupies his right hand to play with your clit, while ravishing your breasts with the other.

“Prompto, please, faster—”

Your legs clench around Prompto’s waist as he dives deeper in you, his hands seizing your thighs, increasing the cadence of his pelvis. Your fingers harshly claw and scratch his back as the both of you exchange your names in violent wailing, and Prompto even goes faster, faster, _fucking faster,_ until he lets out a cry when he comes inside you.

Even when Prompto pulls out and drops face flat on the sheets, spent and exhausted, Ignis only pulls you firmly. He holds you closer by the waist, still rubbing your clit mercilessly and furiously, still marking you on the curve of your neck with his mouth.

“Ignis, no, _oh god,_ ahh!”

Ignis pauses and lifts you up, and in such frightening accuracy, he aligns himself and thrusts himself upward. You can feel Ignis’s cock twitch, and it’s staggering how his entire size fills you up so good. He jerks himself upward, bucking his hips tirelessly and tenaciously.

“You minx,” Ignis says, his words coming out as a growl, “do you have any idea how you drive us crazy?”

“Ignis, ahh—”

“Your sassy little mouth drives _me_ insane—” he rams himself faster this time, and you’re a bundle of titillations— “makes me want to own you and fuck you witless.”

He combines the buck of his hips with the movement of his fingers rubbing your clit. It’s a small wonder how you can last this _long,_ but the reason is now completely irrelevant.

Just when you thought Gladio is done with you, he stands up in front of both you and Ignis, and says, “Didn’t know you can be possessive, Iggy. Sorry, but can’t let you have her all by yourself.”

“Go on without me guys,” you hear Prompto mumble from the crumple of sheets on the side of the bed.

With Gladio’s cock in full view, you gently take him in your hands, while Ignis maintains the excruciating pace of fucking you from underneath. Gladio shivers at the contact and slightly bends lower, grunting and growling, hands clenching around the headboard. Your hands pump vigorously around his cock, slowly wrapping it with your mouth.

Gladio groans, “Gods, you feel so good—”

As Ignis jerks his hips harder, Gladio bucks his hips in your mouth. The carnal tempo of your bodies slamming against one another is an achingly blinding pleasure, and Gladio only goes deeper, and Ignis faster, until the three of you reach a tumultuous growl and cry of release.

Gladio sits back, while you collapse against Ignis, breathless and totally spent. You watch Gladio flump besides Prompto.

“So good,” still out of breath, you slur, “so, _so good.”_

“You really do have an admirable stamina,” Ignis lightheartedly remarks, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Nah, I have to tell Monica I’ll be out tomorrow,” you breathily laugh, pulling the sheets under Gladio to cover yourself. “Or maybe for a week. That was insane.”

“It was insane, indeed,” Prompto agrees, his words muffled as his face is still glued to the sheets.

Gladio suddenly remembers a very important detail. “But wait, this was supposed to be a contest.” He hauls himself up and looks at you with burning intensity. “So?”

“Well,” a sly smirk creeps up your face, “I can’t really decide after just one game...”

Which is true. How can you have the heart to choose only _one_ when you have room for the _three_ of them?

They all laugh. Prompto excitedly perks up and asks a mocking question, “Pray tell—what exactly do you have in mind?”

“Oh, please, you guys,” you roll your eyes at Prompto, “you know exactly what I have in mind.”

“At least now, we know where to find you,” Ignis sneakily suggests. Gladio and Prompto share a cheeky, knowing look.

Your offer was, of course, too tempting for them to resist.

 


End file.
